Friday, January 30, 2009

Snow

I watch the snow drifting pale on pale through a sky yawning grey in an endless expanse of forever, rooftops bleeding white on white and drifting lost ghosts in the sleeting grip of a winter never ending. The candle on the mantelpiece flickers vanilla thoughts into the quiet of a house breathing dusk into my eyes.

I sip Irish-laced coffee, closing tired eyes and allowing the hot need to slip down my throat and warm the shivering spirit which cowers in the dark corner of a soul gone dark.

I have changed.

The past four years have laid an indelible mark of pain along the long line of thought and hope that once was me. Sometimes, I marvel at how knowledge can become so physically corporeal so as to scar forever marks of knowing on a mind that once believed it knew truth.

I find it gently ironic that his marks have left permanent scars on a soul shut down, scored and marked forever this life with his words and the sting of his repudiation while my back remains a pale expanse of skin, lightly freckled, warm and throbbing, smooth and untouched and only the fading memories of warm lashes and delicious sting of his once caring to sustain.

I look back over centuries of agony seared into the psyche of stupidity personified in someone who should have had the sense to know better. I miss that innocent child, the one who believed that connections like ours were inviolable and forever and in the comfort of promise drew dreams of a reality thought authentic.

I struggle to forgive the silliness that engendered 30 years of belief in a dynamic I though immutable.

The fragrance of coffee, laced with the essence of my childhood, wafts in the quiet of my thoughts and I drift, eyes unfocused, losing myself in the shadows of remembered moments. Snow stings memory against the gauze of maybe and my eyes storm drifts into the morass of conflicted thoughts which gather ache into a rumbling mess of confusion.

I have changed.

I stretch, muscles of remembered freedom, thrust upon me, denied and shorn of strength, but wakening slowly, reluctantly but in the reality of the now, inevitable.

For when all is said and done, I am a warrior.

It is as if I have been suspended in a waking dream of possibility and passionate belief and now the crassness of real day has crashed into and shattered into a thousand pieces the fantasy of life lived and pulled me into the harsh light of the now.

I lay my cheek against the cool pane of glass and let my eyes flutter and drift with the sleeting winter tears, separated from the fragile skin of me only by a thin line of defence, as fragile and delicate as a breath and mourn the death of my submission.

8 comments:

Pain is a natural, and instructive, part of the human experience. As counter-productive as it may sound, I have found that whole-heartedly embracing the pain is the surest way to lessen its soul wrenching, flesh rendering grip.

Beautifully written lovely one. I could say all sorts of things...whisper words of comfort, something that would give you strength....assure you that this too will pass and that I know from my own experience that living through the pain of loss is the only way of opening ourselves us to what lies ahead. Yet, for now, all I find myself wanting to do is to leave you my 'snuggle blanket'. Wrap yourself in it for as long as you need......and then pass it to whoever you believe needs it next.

littleone, its an ongoing hurt but i'm getting through it... I"m a warrior after all

LovingAnnie- thank you, profoundly, for those kind words - no, not destroyed, close but not destroyed. I hope I never lose sight of kindness ... and have worked hard not to become bitter

PK, thank you, not sure about that, but thank yo.

M:e, thank you for your thoughts and your kindness and I will indeed avail myself of your blanket and pass it on to the nexst one who needs it.

Trutly, guys, I'm ok - just working things through in words, I find putting them out there helps to clarify things. The reality is that I still love him, profoundingly, completely, as always I have loved only him, and will see what becomes of this new path we take.

The reality is that neither he nor I knows if this path will claim both our feet or will one leave and strike out in a different direction?

The jury is most definitely out on this one ... the journey contiunues.